I am not now who I was before.
When I was young I knew the score.
To me there was just black or white.
But now I know what's worth the fight.

I've learned that things aren't what they seem.
The *** on the street is not really a fiend.
He was not always drunken on *****;
After all is that the life you would choose?

It pains me to think that I was so sure
of how life should be; everything pure.
But people are not made of brick,
and sometimes life can make you sick.

In youth you do not know it, it is something you must learn.
You see life is full of secrets, and this one you must earn.
You see children, life is sometimes only grey,
And in the end, we are all made of the same clay.